"At least, I thought I loved her. She did some terrible things. When I confronted her with my accusations, I did so in front of her father."
Meagan felt Cole's body tremble against hers. She turned and allowed herself to be caught in his embrace.
"Her father was furious." Cole's voice crackled with pain. "He killed her, Meagan. Right in front of me, he killed her."
Meagan buried her face in his chest. "No, Cole." She shook her head at the horror of Cole's words.
"You reminded me of her that day, on your birthday."
Meagan reeled backwards. "How?"
Cole shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe it was the dress, or the way you were moving, or smiling, or something. I got her image in my head and I couldn’t get it out."
Meagan struggled to make sense of his words.
"I didn't mean to lash out at you, Meagan. I was reliving the horror of that night. It wasn’t you. It was never about you."
She wrapped her arms around Cole. She hurt for him.
Cole pried her arms loose and turned away. "I don't want your sympathy, Meagan." His voice broke with emotion. "I'm responsible for a woman's death. I deserve no sympathy."
Fury caused Meagan's tone to deepen. "How dare you!"
Cole turned and faced her. Surprise registered on his face.
"You couldn't have known her father would act as he did. How dare you blame yourself for that man's vile deed. How dare you live a life full of guilt and pain when you were the one wronged."
Meagan spun on her heels and sobbed. "How dare you allow everyone around you to hurt because you can't deal with the sorrow of your loss."
"Meagan, I"
Meagan pivoted and faced him. "Don't Cole. Don't talk to me about guilt." She straightened to her full height and stared into his troubled blue eyes. "You are a coward."
Cole's hands shook as they dangled at his sides. "What?"
"You heard me. A coward." she moved in closer. "You never allowed yourself to mourn your loss, but instead hid under a false sense of guilt. If this woman lied to you, you had a right to face her, just like you did me tonight. What happened at her father’s hands was not your fault."
Meagan's blind faith in him was his undoing. Cole gathered her to him and clung to her. Tears trickled down his face. Meagan's strength flowed through him. She was right. He hadn't killed Sam. Jake had killed her. He held her for a long time as a small part of him healed. His tears dried on his cheeks.
"I wanted to hate you. I've wanted to hate you ever since that day."
Meagan's words startled him. "You don't hate me, Meagan," Cole stated with certainty. He leaned back and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "You told me you loved me once." His thumb moved across her lips in a light caress. "I think you still do."
Meagan broke away. "I was too young to know what love was. It was only puppy love."
Cole arched an eyebrow at her. "Was it?"
Meagan nodded. "Absolutely."
Cole grinned. "Puppy love has a way of turning into the real thing."
Meagan turned away. "I want to go back, now."
Cole moved to her side.
"I want to be alone."
Meagan darted away before he could detain her. Cole watched her disappear into the night. He lowered himself to the crushed grass where she'd sat moments before. His future had just taken a turn he hadn't expected.
CHAPTER SIX
A loud thud invaded Meagan's dreams and she turned onto her back and covered her head with her pillow. It took several seconds for her sleep dazed mind to clear enough to realize someone was banging on her door. She slipped from bed and trudged across her floor in bare feet. She opened the door a crack and peered through it. Cole stood before her. Meagan slammed the door in his face and spun around. She scrambled across the room in search of her clothes.
"Meagan, let me in."
She was wearing a sheer nightdress, her hair was a tangled mess and she could barely keep her eyes open. Was the man insane? "Go away.”
"I have something to show you."
Curiosity sparked enough interest to send her back to the door. She placed her mouth within inches of the smooth stained oak and raised her voice a fraction. "What is it?"
"Meet me outside in ten minutes. I'll show you."
Meagan yawned and raised her hands above her in a long, lazy stretch. "I can't be ready in ten minutes."
"Okay, then, never mind."
She heard Cole's footsteps retreat down the hall. She flung the door wide and stepped through the opening. "Wait!"
Cole's eyes held amusement as he turned her way. His expression deepened with desire as his breath escaped in a husky whisper. "You're lovely, Meagan."
His gaze traveled the length of her. Meagan gasped and flew back into her room, slamming the door.
"Meagan,” Cole taunted, “if you don't come back out you'll never know what my surprise is.”
She made a face at the closed door. Cole was a stubborn, inconsiderate man. She kicked at the door and groaned as her foot made contact. A sharp twang of pain shot through her big toe.
"What was that?"
She resisted the urge to open the door and slap Cole's face. "Nothing," she muttered.
"You'll like your surprise."
"I won't ever see it if you don't leave me alone," Meagan retaliated. Her foot began to throb. She waited until she heard his steps retreat down the hall, then hopped on her uninjured foot to the bed. She plopped down, raised her foot to her face and examined the reddish tip of her toe. She wiggled it to and fro, decided it wasn't broken and slipped her stocking on.
Ten minutes later she left her room. Her hair was woven into an unkempt braid that fell down her back, her face remained unwashed, her disposition was sour, at best. It had taken most of her allotted time just to dress.
Deep in her temper, Meagan failed to notice Cole as he approached her from the side. "Hello."
She jumped and muttered an oath a lady should never mutter as she spun to face him. “Cole McAllister, I should,” her gaze slipped past his cocky grin to the mare whose reins he held. "Angel!"
Angel perked her ears forward in a warm welcome. Meagan ran to Angel and threw her arms around her neck. Delight rippled through her as Angel greeted her with a firm nudge of her nose. Meagan patted her on the muzzle and turned a pleased smile toward Cole, her anger melted. "I want to ride her."
Cole grinned. "I'll get my stallion."
He returned several minutes later with his horse's reins in one hand and a picnic basket in the other. "I asked Ma to pack us a lunch. I thought you might want to make a day of it."
Meagan's knees wobbled. She shook her head. "Okay."
A deep chuckle racked Cole's frame. "I'm not going to ask if that was a yes, or a no. It's already arranged." He mounted his horse.
Cole was dressed in a black, open necked cotton shirt and denim jeans. His clothes hugged him like a second skin. A tingle of warmth coursed through her as her eyes were drawn to his thumbs, which caressed the reins of his horse in an erotic, circular motion.
"Are you ready?"
Meagan turned away from the twinkle in Cole's eyes. "I was admiring your horse," she sputtered out, mounting Angel as a means of distraction before meeting his gaze again.
"He's an Arabian," Cole stated, his prideful tone assuring Meagan he believed her half truth.
She glanced at the stallion. She'd never seen an Arabian before. Pinto's, Appaloosa's and wild Mustangs were common, but the Arabian wasn't a ranch horse.
"I thought they'd be bigger." Cole's horse was about the same height as Angel, about 15 hands to the withers.
"Arabian's aren't big, but they're strong."
Meagan admired the well muscled physique. His deep red color with pure black mane and tail were striking together. "He seems familiar to me, but I don't recall you ever riding him before."
"He's not trained to work the cattle," Cole confirmed. "I ride him for pleasure and when I'm traveling long di
stances." He patted the stallion’s neck. "I was riding him when I brought you back here after the fire."
Meagan's bafflement cleared. "That explains it." She smiled. "It seems I owe him my gratitude, as well, then. What's his name?"
"I never named him."
Astounded, Meagan protested, "he has to have a name. What do you call him?"
"Why do I need to call him anything?"
Cole's puzzled expression exasperated her. "What if you want a stable boy to get him for you. What do you say?"
"I say," Cole stated, his sarcastic tone evident, "get me my Arabian."
Meagan sat, spine straight, arms crossed. "I think he should be given a name."
"Meagan," Cole reasoned, "I have twelve horses in my mount. I don't want to name them all." He snorted. "It's a ridiculous woman thing."
"It is not!"
Cole grinned. "Okay, then, you name him."
"Me?" At his nod, Meagan grinned and studied the horse. His black mane and tail contrasted with Angel's pure white one. They were complete opposites. "Lucifer."
"Lucifer?"
Meagan nodded as her excitement mounted. It was the perfect name.
"Lucifer," Cole repeated. His fingers caressed his chin as he considered the name. His eyes flashed a look of approval her way. "I like it. Lucifer, it is."
"Let's ride!" Meagan leaned forward in her saddle and urged Angel to a gallop. She relished the feel of the wind in her face, the freedom of speed in the control of her fingertips. Lucifer was by her side seconds later, and they rode at a full gallop for several minutes before they slowed their mounts to a steady trot.
Cole's warm eyes met hers. "You ride as if you've ridden all your life. You belong on a horse."
"I love horses," Meagan confessed. She bent low and patted Angel on the neck. "When I saw Angel, I knew I had to have her.
"She's a good riding horse."
Meagan sat up proud and tall in her saddle. "Angel's a lot more than a riding horse. She's a terrific calf horse, and a cutter, too.
"No horse can calf, cut and run with the speed and grace that Angel has. That's why each cowboy has a mount of six or seven horses."
"Angel can do it." Meagan tossed her braid over her shoulder, her gaze bore into his. "I trained her myself."
"Meagan, I know you love Angel, and I'm sure she's a fine animal, but you shouldn't exaggerate your skill, or hers."
Infuriated by Cole's know it all attitude, Meagan huffed, "you wouldn't know a good horse, or cowboy, if you stared one in the face." She felt her cheeks flush with indignation. "You believe, because I'm a woman, that I can't train Angel."
"I never said that," Cole protested.
"Angel is the best," Meagan declared. "So am I." She turned Angel back towards the ranch. She was in no mood to have a picnic. Cole infuriated her.
Cole avoided Meagan the remainder of the day. He hoped if he gave her time to cool off, she wouldn't make his life hell tonight. He noticed a funny smell as he entered the house. It didn't take a genius to realize it came from the kitchen, or to know that Meagan would be the only occupant in the room. With a troubled sigh Cole followed the smoke. He wondered if he'd starve to death before Meagan learned to cook.
He cracked the door and peeked inside. Meagan stood amidst a swirl of black smoke. Cole knew he would be expected to eat whatever she was burning and found no amusement in the scene. He opened the door wider. The air cleared as smoke escaped.
"Cole, come in." Meagan invited
"Um, no Meagan, I don't think so." Cole turned to leave. At this moment he couldn't fathom what made him want to see her in the first place.
"I want to apologize."
That stopped him in his tracks. He spun back around. "You want to what?"
A pretty pink blush colored Meagan's cheeks. "I said I want to apologize." She wiped her hands on her apron and moved in closer. "I realized since you've never seen Angel in action that you have a right to your doubts."
Cole felt himself straighten as a rush of victory coursed through him. "Thank you, Meagan."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "You're still wrong, though." She turned away. "I'll show you some day."
Cole smiled. He wasn't the least bit worried. He walked up behind her. "If you prove me wrong, I'll do something for you. Anything you want." His mind went to all the things he could do for her as he slid his hands slowly down her arms.
Meagan leaned into him. "You're on," she agreed in a breathless whisper.
He bent and brushed his lips across the hollow curve of her neck. He took in the scent of her, gripping her waist. "Turn around, Meagan," he half ordered, half pleaded.
He felt her stiffen, then she slipped from his embrace and darted to the other side of the kitchen.
Cole sighed and shook his head. "Someday, Meagan, I plan to find out what's in that pretty little head of yours." His frustration turned to a mixture of amusement and dread as more smoke filled the room. "Your dinner is burning, again"
“Oh dear,” Meagan exclaimed, rushing back to the stove.
“No need to rush,” he whispered, more to himself than her. Nothing was going to salvage that meal. He left the kitchen and seated himself at the dining room table where Stephen already sat.
Meagan appeared within minutes. Cole felt his stomach roil at the sight of the food she carried. He didn't bother to chalk up even a slight smile when she glanced his way. He was hungry, damn it. His jeans didn’t even fit any more and he was running out of notches on his belt.
Enough was enough. He stood up, prepared to fire Meagan.
Meagan spun on her heels, the expression on Cole’s face telling her she better flee, and fast. “I left something in the kitchen.”
“Meagan, get back here,” Cole ordered.
Just then Cole’s pa entered the room.
Meagan felt her shoulders drop and air rushed from her lungs. Judd McAllister had perfect timing. She was certain he'd just saved her from Cole's wrath. Judd's hair was sprinkled with gray and his bronzed skin was roughened with deep lines from years of exposure to the sun. Otherwise, Judd looked much like his two sons.
Judd sat at the table. "I'm starving. What's for dinner?"
Meagan wanted to creep under the rug and disappear. She turned to Cole in a silent plea for help. Her fingers curled with the urge to throw food in Cole's face as she witnessed his lips curl. He made no effort to hide his amusement as he watched her squirm.
Meagan lifted her chin a fraction and fetched a plate. She scooped a small portion of meat and potatoes onto Judd's plate.
Judd took it from her. "Thank you, Meagan."
"I wouldn't thank me yet," Meagan mumbled under her breath.
"You’re cooking for us now?" Judd asked, his tone casual, his expression showing no signs of distress at what she’d just served him.
Meagan flinched. "Yes. Stephen and Cole hired me."
"They did? I could have sworn that the cook we had before was more than capable." Judd arched his brow and stared at his sons.
A brief moment of pleasure replaced her trepidation as Meagan watched Cole and Stephen squirm in their chairs. Neither would make eye contact with their pa.
"I recall, Meagan,” Judd continued, “that you once believed cooking to be for old women with babies and husband's. You claimed you wouldn't be caught dead within a hundred feet of a stove.
Meagan avoided eye contact with Cole, but didn't miss his snicker. She remembered the exact conversation Judd spoke of. She hadn't been at the ranch more than a few weeks when her Pa shared one of her meals with Judd. He'd been both amused and dismayed by her lack of skill. She'd retaliated with a temper tantrum. Little had she known it would come back to haunt her.
Meagan could have sworn that Judd winked at her before he took his first bite. A second glance his way showed nothing out of the ordinary, except that he took a second bite. Meagan stared, dumbfounded, as he cleaned his plate and helped himself to seconds. She chanced a sideways glance at Cole who stared
at his father in absolute disbelief.
Judd glanced at Cole and Stephen. "Eat up boys, eat up."
The two brothers picked up their forks and ate in absolute silence. Meagan waited for them to finish then cleared the dishes, amazed at what had transpired. She served coffee, then sat down beside Cole to enjoy a cup herself.
"How did it go, Pa?" Cole hoped a conversation might get his mind off the meal he'd just consumed.
Judd leaned back in his chair and cupped his hands behind his head. "A rancher moved into the area about nine months ago. Seems he's been driving cattle through Meeker, several hundred at a time. No one knew much about him or where the cattle came from."
"He could be our man," Stephen declared. "Did you confront him?"
"No. Dates don't match up, and I have no solid proof. It's a lead, nothing more.” Judd shrugged, “Maybe something more will surface. If not, I'll pay the man a visit after round up."
"I think we should go now," Cole declared.
Judd shook his head. "We don't want to spook him. Right now we have the upper hand. We need to keep it that way."
Meagan was so intent on the conversation that she didn't notice Judd's eyes on her until he spoke. "Meagan, could I have a little more coffee?"
With a quick nod, she stood and fetched the pot, filling his cup.
Judd took a sip of the hot liquid.
"What's this man's name?" Cole asked as he held his cup out for Meagan to fill.
"Cliff Wayland."
Hot coffee spilled from the mug into Cole’s lap. "What the.." Cole jumped from his chair and slapped at his pants.
Meagan stared blankly at the damage she'd done as her stomach roiled. "Let me get a rag for that," she turned and headed towards the kitchen.
"Meagan, wait,"
She ignored Cole and rushed from the room. There was no longer any doubt in her mind. Meagan sensed Cole's presence behind her. She picked up a rag and wrung it out.
She felt Cole's hands on her shoulders, but this time they offered little comfort to her tormented state. "Meagan, I'm okay. The coffee wasn't that hot."
A hysterical laugh escaped from her throat. "I'm glad I didn't burn you."
"Meagan, turn around."
Meagan complied. She knew from Cole's concerned expression that she was as pale as she felt.
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